


Sunday Morning

by factorielle



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too early to get up, too late to fall back asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning

Hamada woke up too early. Dawn was coming, mingling with the streetlights to create a semblance of brightness in the room. He didn't need to be up for a couple of hours yet.

Too early to get up, too late to fall back asleep, and a bedmate giving the first signs of stirring awake. Hamada grinned and rolled over Izumi, effectively pinning him down. That left most of his back exposed, bare skin sleep-warm under Hamada's hand.

The response was instantaneous; Izumi made a noise at the back of his throat as he readjusted himself, spreading his legs to accommodate Hamada's knee between his thighs, not-so-accidentally rubbing his hip against Hamada's nascent hard-on.

Hamada pushed back lightly, enjoying the friction without much urgency. At the moment, there was more interest in enjoying Izumi's rare unguarded moment than in pushing for anything.

Not that he'd ever need to. Not with Izumi, who never balked at asking for — demanding— what he wanted. Like now, when despite being allegedly asleep he was wrigging in the most delicious way, managing to push his boxers slightly lower down in the process.

"Morning," Hamada said contentedly, nuzzling his face into dark hair.

"Morning." His voice was clearer than Hamada'd expected, but still a little drowsy. "Your hand's too high." He never stopped moving, though, kept sending a jolt of pleasure through Hamada with twist of his hips.

Hamada obediently slid his hand down along Izumi's spine, to settle at the small of his back. "Here?"

In retaliation, Izumi fell completely still, making Hamada groan in dismay. "You suck at guessing games," he said, bringing his arms up to pillow his head on them. "You're supposed to be preparing me for a fuck. You do remember how that works?"

Yeah. Never a hint of shame, and even a bit of haughtiness. For some inexplicable reason, that was irresistibly attractive to Hamada. But today…

"You have a game this morning."

Izumi bent his head, exposing a sliver of skin at the back of his neck that Hamada wanted to leave a mark on. "One that you're ditching on account of work or some other lame excuse. Don't you want to be doing your shelving later and know that I'll still be feeling you in the middle of the game?"

Oh god. Oh yes. Except no. Last time Hamada had given in against his better judgement, he'd ended up getting glared at for a whole day as Izumi tried not to limp throughout practice.

"I also want you to be in shape to win," he pointed out, but he reached over to search blindly beyond the pillow. Finding the bottle of lube would probably take too long, and also force him to move. But there should be… ah, yes. The leftover condom was almost out of reach, but he managed to grab it between two fingertips.

Izumi grabbed it when it passed in front of his face, forced himself up on his elbows for the short time it took to open the package and push the condom half-out, before he presented it back.

"So helpful," Hamada said, grinning as he grabbed it. And impatient. But that was fine. Somehow, he managed to unroll the condom one-handed, and didn't waste any more time sliding his covered fingers right where Izumi wanted them.

He pressed lightly at first, just for the sake of making Izumi push back impatiently, wriggling against his hand. He wished he could take his time. Tie him up and tease him to exasperation — maybe even pleading. But not today. No overexertion before a game, that was a base rule.

So he didn't tease too much, despite the temptation, and pushed his fingers in, delighting in the resulting moan.

"That's more like it," Izumi conceded, spreading his legs a little further apart, the perfect picture of smug contentment. "Come on…"

Hamada complied, working himself deeper in. Izumi was so tight around his fingers, it made his cock twitch in empathy. Oh, but he wanted to move even closer, to keep Izumi pinned down with his whole body weight and fuck him deep and slow throughout the morning. But they didn't have that kind of time, and Izumi didn't have that kind of patience. For that plan to work he'd have to be tied up, and possibly gagged. A nice mental image to keep warm for another day.

He just kept working Izumi with his fingers, only daring to lean over to nibble at the exposed back of Izumi's neck. He barely ever needed to move, really. Izumi had already built a rhythm, small circular motions, rubbing himself against the bed before pushing against Hamada's fingers, again and again until he decided it wasn't enough.

"Come on now, I can handle more than that."

No doubt about that. But whether he could do that and get through his game… "I know, but can you handle less?" Hamada asked, pulling out, without mercy.

Izumi swore. "You realize this isn't how this sex thing is supposed to work, right?" he ground out.

Hamada hummed in agreement as he removed one finger from the condom. He had to slide a little lower to get the angle he wanted, and it took a bit of focus, a few seconds, before he could get it right, before—

"Ah!" Izumi bucked against him, then fell back in the bed, breathing deeply.

"I think I might make it work anyway," Hamada said, curling his finger again just so, relishing the moans and whimpers that escaped Izumi as he tried, still, to get more friction. Yeah, that worked. That worked just right, and even Izumi wasn't complaining now, just rolling his hips, fucking himself on Hamada's single finger and loving it. At some point he'd broken into a sweat and started moaning almost continuously.

Hamada felt the end coming when Izumi's movements grew frantic and his breathing turned to gasps —and then the contractions around his finger, Izumi's whole body going rigid. It seemed to last forever, like Hamada could really just hold him there with a single finger —until it was over and Izumi fell back down, shaking.

Neither of them said anything until Izumi's breathing was back to semi-normal, although a very preciserly located part of Hamada was still clamouring for immediate attention.

"I should get going," Izumi said eventually, giving no hint of intention to attend to Hamada's needs.

"You don't have to go yet. Here's closer to the stadium than your parents', isn't that why you stayed here in the first place?"

"Yes, because ‘Yoshiro-kun is so grown up now and won't keep me up when I need to be sleeping'," Izumi completed the quote with a smirk. "Anyway, I still need a shower. I'm not going to a game smelling like this. And so..."

"And so?" Hamada asked hopefully.

Izumi took his time sitting up, allowing Hamada to leer at the play of his back muscles as he did so. "And so, you'll have to take care of that yourself this time," he said, nodding over his shoulder at Hamada's raging hard-on. "But I'm sure if we win the game today I'll be allowed to stay here again."

He closed the bathroom door behind him and, fine, Hamada had to agree that it was a little sad, but that vague promise coupled with the memory of Izumi humping his bed was totally going to be enough to keep him going until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Hamada/Izumi, fingerfucking to orgasm.


End file.
